A Model of Restraint in the Race for News

THE TIMES, it is safe to say, had a very good week. On Monday, it won four Pulitzer Prizes — the third most in its history and twice as many as any other news organization this year.

On Wednesday, it stayed on the safe side of “the Rubicon of inaccuracy” — in the words of Jill Abramson, the executive editor. That regrettable river was crossed, in a bizarre chain of events that was painful for any journalist to watch, by CNN, by the normally cautious Associated Press, and by many others who cited unnamed law enforcement sources.

The Times wisely sat tight and did not report, as the others did, that an arrest had been made or that a suspect was in custody in the deadly explosions at the Boston Marathon. And when the police did pinpoint the suspects in the bombing at week’s end, The Times was on top of the story quickly.

I’ve been critical of The Times in many ways over the past eight months. It can be self-satisfied, too willing to circle the wagons, too ready to cooperate with the government. It made some bad factual mistakes in the breaking coverage of the Newtown massacre, and it sometimes chooses to ignore or underplay important subjects. I could go on.

But right now, let’s give credit where it is due. The Times proved itself worthy of its reputation as journalism’s gold standard and served its readers well by staying away from unconfirmed reports. Its reporting from Boston all week was fast, deep and accurate.

By contrast, for more than an hour on Wednesday afternoon, other news organizations took the bait. They excitedly reported an arrest, then they backed off, saying reports were conflicting, and made retractions. A one-word Twitter message from The Columbia Journalism Review summed up the mess: “Sigh.”

Ms. Abramson, who in her first full year as executive editor oversaw the publication of 2012’s prizewinning work, told me she consistently gets the message out to editors and reporters that accuracy comes first.

“Everyone in the newsroom knows that I’m competitive, but I have been careful never to send a message that I put a premium on speed on breaking news,” she said.

What The Times can and should offer its readers is coolheaded certainty: If you read it here, it’s right. The Times can’t beat Twitter or cable news at their own frenzied game; it can be the place to come for accuracy, perspective and depth. As digital tools continue to revolutionize journalism, The Times is realizing and asserting its proper and much-needed role.

Beyond the facts, readers had other concerns about the Boston coverage. I heard from some who reasonably objected that The Times was sending e-mail alerts and Twitter messages about its Pulitzer Prizes at almost the same time it was sending notices about the grim news from the marathon.

Photo

It should be noted that the confluence of the two events was extraordinary. In the Times newsroom, hundreds of employees had gathered for the Pulitzer celebration just as the news of the Boston explosions was becoming known. The lengthy speeches went on as planned, even as other reporters and editors scrambled — right in the midst of the same crowded room — to start posting on the excellent live blog known as The Lede, to write an initial news article, and to dispatch reporters. The surreal scene in the newsroom was dissonant, but it didn’t keep the job from getting done.

(In a more fortunate coincidence of timing, one Times reporter, John Eligon, had just run the marathon himself and went back out to the scene. His article, written with Michael Cooper, led the Tuesday print edition.)

Another concern was about graphic photographs. David Slarskey, a Brooklyn reader, had strong objections to an image of an injured woman that was published on the front page on Tuesday. The ground was bloody, as was the clothing or bandages around her upper leg. The photograph was undoubtedly distressing — and powerful.

Mr. Slarskey wrote: “While there is no denying the newsworthiness of the event, which must be reported, and even the sensitivity of the volunteers in assisting this woman, the imprinting of images like this on society is the very purpose of terrorist conduct. Surely there are equally important images to be featured without highlighting the terror-inducing gore.”

I respect this view, which I heard from many others, but I found the photo choice reasonable. If it had shown one of the dead, or gruesome detail of a severed limb, I would have felt differently. The journalistic imperative is to give readers an accurate sense of what happened — simply put, to tell the truth.

It is useful, too, to think about the photographs that readers accept unquestioningly when they show bloody scenes from, say, Iraq or Syria. The protests seem to come more often when such images are of Americans, or when they are closer to home.

But another reader, Darryl Campagna, an Albany journalist and teacher, objected to the “artistic cropping” of a photograph of a young man, Jeff Bauman, whose badly damaged legs would be amputated, being wheeled through the street. She noted that some other media sites did not do the same: The Huffington Post used the uncropped photograph in its graphic original form, showing the terrible injuries, the man’s destroyed limbs.

Ms. Campagna wrote of The Times’s decision: “What gives? Aren’t we all adult enough to see the horrific consequences of these horrific actions?”

Michele McNally, The Times’s assistant managing editor in charge of photography, said that after considering both the cropped and full photographs sent by The Associated Press, she felt the cropped one was stronger.

“You did not need to see the rest of the picture,” she said. “The legs actually distracted you from seeing the intense look on his face, the ashen quality that suggested how much blood had been lost.” I agree that the image used by The Times packed a huge emotional punch without confronting readers with gore.

The Times is far from perfect. But last week, in its intelligent and restrained handling both of images and facts, it looked like a newspaper worthy of this year’s Pulitzer glory.